by Annie O'Neil
There was something else. Something she wasn’t saying. But he didn’t press. He’d wanted a change and Maggie was delivering.
Maggie.
A life-affirming electrical current shot through him and the first undiluted desire simply to say yes to life took hold of his heart.
Maggie was the difference. He’d just told her about the worst moment in his life and already he felt...not lighter, exactly, but less alone. If Maggie could believe that one single shred of the man she’d met still existed...
“What?” Maggie’s features scrunched up as she tried to interpret his expression. “You haven’t gone soft on me, have you? Not up for a bit of rough and tumble out in the Woop Woop?”
“Quoi?”
“The Outback,” she explained with a laugh. “The middle of nowhere.”
He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes in a dubious squint.
“Is this some sort of Australian ritual? Bringing a poor, defenseless Frenchman to the Outback to see if he can make his way back to civilization as a means of proving himself?”
“Something like that.” The hint of a mysterious smile teased at the corner of her lips. “Or it could just be to prove you can survive a couple of days with my brothers. Believe me—if you can make it forty-eight hours straight with the Louis brothers, you can survive anything.”
A warmth hit Raphael’s heart, and with it came a sudden hunger. Nothing to do with being invited to meet the family of the girl he’d always wondered What if? about, he told himself drily.
He began unwrapping his sandwich, abruptly stopped and locked eyes with her.
“One question.”
The change in his own voice surprised him. It reminded him of the man he’d used to be before the harshness of grief had turned him irritable. It was the voice of a man who cared.
“Can I bring my dog?”
Maggie’s eyed widened and stayed wide as her radio crackled to life and a rapid-fire stream of instructions rattled through. “Code Twenty-one,” she whispered, her green eyes locked on his as she continued listening.
Can I bring my dog?
What was that all about? It wasn’t like Monster was actually his. Or that he needed a buffer between him and Maggie. She was...she was Maggie. The sunny-faced, flame-haired girl—
Who was pressing herself up and away from the picnic table, grabbing her half-eaten sandwich and making a “wheels up” spin with her finger as she continued to take down the details of their call-out.
It was at that moment that he truly saw her for who she was. Maggie wasn’t the lanky, shy, still-growing-into-her-skin teen he’d met thirteen years ago, who’d tied an invisible ribbon round his heart.
She was a woman.
And a beautiful one at that.
He’d been so preoccupied with shaking off the ghosts chasing him around the world that he hadn’t stop to breathe her in. This past year he had felt as if he’d only just been holding on to the back of a runaway train, and now Maggie had leapt on and hit the brakes. Showed him there was more than one way to handle the grieving process he knew he had to go through.
“We’ve got a broken arm, a possible neck fracture, and a few more injuries.”
“All for one patient?” He grabbed his own sandwich and drink, following her at a jog.
“No. Cheerleading pyramid gone wrong.”
“Cheerleading?”
“Cheerleading. Or not, as the case may be,” she added soberly, before jumping into the ambulance.
* * *
When they arrived at the high school they pulled into the car park at the same time as another ambulance. Maggie’s mate Stevo and his new partner Casey. Raphael rolled down his window as a man ran between the pair of vehicles, waving his arms and identifying himself as the headmaster.
After a quick conference with the headmaster they drove the ambulances round to the school’s large playing field to find a huge group of people gathered in several circles.
“I’ll grab the tib-fib compound,” Stevo called, heading for a group already opening up to let him and his pale-faced junior through. Those injuries had the potential to be pretty gory. Raphael felt for Casey.
“She looks horrified, poor thing.” Maggie made a sympathetic noise, then grabbed a run bag and a spine board. “Oh, well. There’s only one way to learn and that’s by confronting the tough stuff. Can you grab a couple of extra collars and a pile of blankets? It looks like you and I are over here.”
Maggie tipped her head at the pair of girls in cheerleading outfits running toward them.
Confronting the tough stuff.
Precisely what he needed to do.
“Over here!” One of the cheerleaders arced her arm and pointed toward a nearby group. “She says she can’t feel her legs!”
Raphael shouldered his run bag and set off in a jog alongside Maggie, hoping the situation wasn’t as grim as it sounded. At the very least, the patient was alert. Speaking. From what he’d heard, cheerleading injuries could be catastrophic, with all the gymnastics involved.
Words whirled round him—“flyer”, “base holders weren’t there”, “on her head”—as they approached the circle around a sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl. A hush fell upon the crowd.
“Hello, love.” Maggie dropped down to her knees behind the girl and immediately stabilized her head by bracing her elbows on the ground and holding her temples steady. She shot Raphael a quick look, then shifted her gaze to the girl’s legs. They were lying at peculiar angles and, whilst alert, the girl had an entirely mystified expression playing across her face.
“Looks like someone took cheerleading to some new heights—oops. No, no. Stay still, darlin’. We want to make sure we don’t move anything we’re not supposed to.”
Maggie gave Raphael a nod and he ran a series of quick checks for additional injuries, keeping a sharp eye on the patient as he moved the teen’s legs into place. No response.
“Have you seen anything your end? Spinal injuries? Brain?” He asked his questions in French, and a swift murmur of approbation followed from the teenagers behind him. If they knew he’d spoken in French to keep potentially bleak news from them, they wouldn’t be saying such nice things.
Maggie shook her head. “Protocol says we should use the stiff neck braces for precautionary immobilization, but I think they’re too much for her.” Maggie held her hand alongside the girl’s neck, as if measuring it.
“I think the vacuum mattress would be best. It will keep her entire body stabilized without any unnecessary jarring—particularly if she has a pelvic fracture.”
Maggie’s eyes flashed to his.
“We won’t be able to see any internal bleeding, so the best we can do is stabilize her as much as possible.”
Raphael’s mind had ticked over to automatic pilot—which didn’t second-guess his every decision. And it felt good. It felt like being a trauma doctor again.
Maggie tugged a couple of blankets off the pile Raphael had placed on the ground and started rolling them into boomerang shapes. “I’ll use these to stabilize for now, while you do the rest of the checks.”
After examining the girl for any immediate evidence of neck wounds or the potential for underlying hematomas, Raphael ran to get the mattress.
When he returned he saw Maggie checking the girl’s vitals again. “Have you looked for signs of neurogenic shock?”
Maggie shook her head. “I’ve only just started. I’ve done a quick pulse check—doesn’t seem too low. Or high, for that matter.” She smiled down at her young charge. “All right, there, love? Seems as though your ticker’s all right.” Then, in a lower voice she continued. “Amazing...good. Not bradychardic in the slightest.”
“What does that mean?” the girl asked.
“It means your body seems to be doing its best to help you recover.” Maggie brush
ed her fingers along the girl’s cheek, then rattled through a few stats with Raphael.
In between all the medical speak with Raphael, Maggie continued to keep up a steady flow of fact-gathering in the guise of casual chit-chat with their patient. This was her forte. He could see that now.
Being calm, warm and conversational kept the patient relaxed, the atmosphere less stressed, and significantly reduced the patient’s potential for panic. His quest to be as exacting as he could had all but turned him into an automaton. A patient’s worst nightmare.
He smiled as Maggie continued.
What was her name?
Jodi.
How long had she been a cheerleader?
Four years, and this was to have been her last as she was planning on becoming a veterinarian.
Any favorite animals?
Dogs. Definitely dogs.
Maggie shot him a quick look, so he threw in a comment about dogs being wonderful.
What pyramid routine had they been practicing?
The Eiffel Tower.
A pair of amused green eyes met his.
“Well, isn’t that a coincidence?” Maggie put her hand directly above Jodi’s eyeline. “Can you move your eyes toward the handsome chap over there on your left?” Maggie used her finger above the girl’s face as a guideline.
Raphael smiled. That was a clever way to check her responses.
Wait a minute... Handsome?
“He’s a genuine Frenchman, and—would you believe it?—the very same man who took me all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed around Paris. The first day we met he took me to see the Eiffel Tower.”
Maggie’s eyes flicked up to Raphael’s and for a microscopic instant they caught and locked. Something in him flared hot and bright as he saw Maggie in full, glorious high-definition. The flame-colored hair. The beautiful green eyes. The milky white skin, flawless save a tiny scar at the corner of one of her eyes.
How had he not noticed that before? Had someone hurt her? Another swell of emotion built in him. A feeling of fierce protectiveness. If anyone had hurt Maggie he’d—
“Raphael?”
He cleared his throat and looked up at the sea of expectant faces. This was definitely not the time for flirting or thumping his chest like a he-man.
Had Maggie been flirting or just being nice?
“Um, Raph?” There were questions in Maggie’s eyes, and not all of them were about work.
“Alors...shall we get Jodi onto the spine board?”
Raphael moved the board to Jodi’s right, ensuring the vacuum mattress was in place, and on his count they rolled her onto the board and secured her with the series of straps attached to the mattress.
“How’s your breathing, Jodi?” Raphael asked.
The teen stared at him, wide-eyed. “Say that again.”
“How’s your breathing?”
He shot an alarmed look in Maggie’s direction. Breathing problems indicated much more serious injuries that might require intubation, the need for a positive-pressure bag-valve-mask device—though there were issues that went along with that as well. Distorting the airway could impair breathing, then circulation...
He was surprised to hear Maggie giggling.
“I think her breathing’s just fine, Raphael. It’s your accent. She likes it.”
“And his name, too.” Jodi’s voice was positively dreamy and her expression fully doe-eyed.
“Oops! Easy, love—let’s keep you looking straight up. Even if it’s just my old mug you’re looking at.”
Maggie quickly pushed the blankets back into place, realigning Jodi’s head to a neutral anatomical position. She widened her middle and index fingers between the girl’s chin and suprasternal notch to get a measurement.
“Maybe we’d better slip an extra-small soft collar on her for the journey. Especially...” Maggie dropped a teasing wink at Raphael “...as you’re the one who’s going to be sitting in the back of the ambulance with our girl, here.”
Raphael laughed and together, with the quick efficiency that usually came from years of working together, they inflated the mattress, lifted Jodi onto the wheeled gurney and loaded her into the ambulance for their ride to the hospital.
* * *
A few hours and several patients later they were sitting in companionable silence at the front of the ambulance as they headed back to the station.
Raphael’s thoughts returned to Maggie’s invitation.
“Did you mean it?” His voice sounded more intense than he’d anticipated. Pulling back the emotion, he clarified, “About the road trip?”
Maggie threw him a quick look, the bulk of her attention on the rush hour traffic she was battling. “Yeah, I suppose...”
“That doesn’t sound as if you’ve entirely made up your mind. If it was a charity invitation—”
“No, no.” She batted a hand between them. “That wasn’t it at all. It’s just that it’s a long way. Aussie long. I thought it might be part of your How-to-be-an-Australian training, but if you don’t plan on sticking around it might be too much bother.”
He dropped his head and looked at his hands.
Why was he here?
To see Maggie.
Why did he want to see Maggie?
To find out if a human heart still pounded in his chest.
What happened when he was with Maggie?
Blood charged through his veins.
“Sounds good. I’d like to do it.”
She threw him a quick glance. “All right, then. Well, in that case, the invitation is still open—but it comes with a warning.”
“Are there venomous snakes where we are going?”
She laughed. “Loads. But they’re everywhere in Australia. The warning is much bigger. My brothers can’t cook for toffee. Chances are you’re going to have to eat whatever I manage to rustle up—and let’s just say most of the takeaways near my flat would go out of business if I moved.”
“Didn’t your mother cook?”
His mother’s cooking was one of his better memories of his home life, but from the chill that instantly descended between them, it was obviously not the right question to ask Maggie.
“She did.” Maggie’s voice sounded hollow. “Best cook in town.”
“Did?”
“She passed a while back.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She made a small noise, her gaze fastidiously trained on the cars in front of them, each battling for those few precious centimeters taking them that much closer to home.
Home.
Such a simple word, but one laden with the power of a nuclear bomb.
He didn’t know where home was anymore. He’d rented expensive modern apartments in Paris. A total contrast to the cramped, low-rent housing he had grown up in with his parents. A tent in Africa. A tiny beach house here in Sydney.
Nothing seemed to fit.
The thought twisted and tightened in his gut.
Would anything? Anywhere? Would yet another trip finally give him some answers?
He looked out of the window as they crawled past one of Sydney’s most famous beaches. It was mid-week but the shore was packed with families, couples, surfers, sun-worshippers. The sky was a beautiful, crisp blue. The air was tinged with a lightly salted tang. It was heaven on earth, and yet he still felt as though being a part of it all remained out of reach. Impossibly so.
He looked across to Maggie, startled to see her swipe at the film of tears blurring her clear green eyes. The moment was over so quickly he wondered if he’d imagined it. And in its place was her bright, ready smile as the radio crackled to life with a call-out to an asthma attack.
She flicked on the blue lights.
“Let’s hit one more before we call it quits, shall we?”
CHAP
TER SEVEN
Don’t forget the socks, Dags.
MAGGIE GROWLED A response at the text message, half tempted to throw her phone out the car window. But she knew she’d go to the store. Buy the socks. Take the washing powder. Make the meat pies. Enough to put in the freezer for later.
She could already see herself rolling up her sleeves and cleaning up the three months’ worth of detritus that had no doubt accrued in the Louis household.
It was what she did. It was what they did. Annoying as they were, at least she had a family. It was a lot more than Raphael had.
Losing the Couttards had genuinely seemed to set him adrift.
Not that she’d gone over the reasons he’d chosen to seek her out a thousand times, or anything, but...had he come to fill a void? One that Jean-Luc and his parents had filled when they were teens?
Losing Jean-Luc as a friend must have been devastating for him.
When she’d lost her mother she had felt as if the world had disappeared from beneath her feet. But that was cancer. Just one of life’s cruel turns.
Losing a friend...losing a child.
The thought gave her chills. Raphael’s loss was a vivid reminder that, even if they did drive her bonkers, her father and brothers had been there for her all along. The proverbial wind beneath her wings.
She glared at her phone for a minute, then felt her features soften as she punched in a reply.
I’ve already put holes in the big toes. Just the way you like ’em. x PS Don’t call me Dags. I’m bringing a friend. Who has manners.
Another message pinged straight back. Something about bringing extra “talent” into town for the brothers’ pleasure which she chose to ignore. There was no chance she’d bring a female friend out to meet that lot of larrikins. Kelly had once begged her and she’d flat-out refused.
Besides, if she explained to her brothers that her “friend” was actually the man she was trying to convince herself she wasn’t head over heels in love with, her phone might blow up with their responses.
And it wasn’t as if it was reciprocated. If Raphael had actually come to Oz because he was in love with her it would’ve come out by now.